Viva La Vie Kindergarten
by i'llbeyourcoat
Summary: Another RENT kindergarten story! i love these so i'm going to try to write my own. It will probably go between humor and drama because i like both. Reveiws make me happeir then you can know. Flames are pretty much ignored.
1. Names

_Rent, cannon pairings, maybe some Roger/April and Mimi/Benny later on. From kindergarten to…I'm not sure yet .I wrote a pre-story thing, but I decided not to post it. I will try to make each chapter focus on a different character, but it will probably turn out Angel/Collins centric. I can't help it, I just love them. And I know the timing isn't right but I don't care, so ha! Also, the updates on this story will not be frequent, I am writing this on the side. I don't own RENT, I wish I did…oh well…_

_Here's the order of the character/ chapter_

_Collins _

_Mark_

_Mimi_

_Roger_

_Maureen_

_Angel_

_Joanne_

_And repeat _

**1.Kindergarten**

_**Collins chapter**_

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Tom Collins watched the other kids, some crying, and some refusing to let go of their parents. He turned to Gran, wondering what she expected him to do.

"Gran, do you want me to cry and fuss?" he asked innocently. The little wrinkle-y old lady smiled.

"Only if you want to do those things,"

"Can I just hug you instead?"

"That would be lovely." She accepted the hug. "Now run inside, I'll be waiting here at the end of the day."

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Inside, there was a woman who said her name was Ms.Shore. She told him to go sit down in a circle on the rug with about fifteen other kids. He started towards the rug, but was stopped by a mass of thick brown hair. The girl who belonged to the hair got right up in his face.

"HI," She said, her voice loud and excited, full of electricity. "I'M MAUREEN. DO YOU WANT TO BE FRIENDS?" Tom decided he liked this girl so he nodded. She squealed and jumped up and down and clapped her hands. Grabbing his arm, she pulled him towards the rug. "You can sit here next to Marky." Maureen pushed him next to a scrawny blond boy with glasses. "Marky is only four so be nice to him and don't break his glasses or I'll break your face, and don't steal his scarf, cuz his GranGran bought it for him, and I get to sleep next to him at nap time and…. that's Roger." The boy who she pointed to grinned, pushing his hair out of his eyes. She pulled Tom next to Marky and went to wait for the next person to be her…'friend'.

"So…your name's Tom?" Roger asked. Tom nodded. "You need a better name, Tom is a boring person name." Tom shrugged; he had no attachments to his name.

"You got a last name?" Mark wondered.

"Collins."

"That's a good name, we're going to call you Collins now."

"I'M BACK! Look, I brought Jo." Maureen was indeed pulling a small girl with frizzy sort of hair towards the group.

"Joanne…not Jo." She said quietly.

"Sit next to Marky," Maureen told her. Plopping down in between Collins and Joanne.

"I thought I got to sit next to Marky."

"Mark…not Marky." Mark said quietly. Suddenly the room was filled with high-pitched giggles. Two kids came in; they looked like they could be siblings. They were clutching at each other's hands and squealing. They looked at the rug, there were only two spaces left now, on opposite sides of the circle. Then they looked at each other, and then they looked back at the rug.

"I will sit next to the cute one, you can sit next to the sulky one." The boy declared. His friend still looked unsatisfied. "We can still see each other from across the circle." He told her. This seemed to cheer her up. Tossing her curly hair over her shoulder she went and sat down between Roger, and a girl with red hair. The boy sat next to Collins. "Hi." He said confidently. The sound of his voice made Collins feel as if a thousand butterflies had been set loose inside him. It was a nice, fluttery sort of feeling, like he might drift away so that he hit the ceiling.

"Hi," Just then Ms.Shore called for their attention. She told them to go around and say their name and their favorite color.

"Benny, orange" A kid with little hair and a scowl.

"April, yellow" The girl with red hair.

"Mimi, blue" The boy's friend.

"Roger, blu…" April gave him a look. "I mean yellow."

"Mark, green,"

"Joanne…. purple"

"MAUREEN, I LIKE REEEEEEEED"

"Tom…Collins…. green"

"Angel, purple" Murmurs and giggles swept the room. Angel's shoulders slumped. Mimi narrowed her eyes.

"Don't anyone laugh at Angel's name…or else." Angel's shoulders came 'un-slumped'. Collins leaned over and cupped his hands close to Angel's ear.

"I think your name is very pretty." Collins whispered, like it was a secret. Angel positively beamed.

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_Yes, I know that was very short…and cheesy. Don't know what else to say. I'm going to post the next chapter now…bye! )_


	2. purple markers

**2.kindergarten**

_**Mark Chapter**_

Mark sat in the circle for the next twenty minuets. After about five minuets Roger started to subtly poke him in the head. It was starting to get really annoying.

"Roger, stop it." He whispered.

"I heard somewhere that if you hit your head hard enough, you turn purple. I want to see how many pokes it takes to turn you purple."

"But it hurts."

"Then hurry up, and turn purple." Mark tried, really he did. But he just couldn't turn purple.

"Maureen," He hissed. "Roger is poking me."

"Why?"

"He says I'll turn purple,"

"Really?"

"I don't know, that is why he is poking me."

"Cool." And Maureen started poking his other side. For some reason Ms.Shore failed to notice Roger and Maureen were poking Mark. After sitting in the stupid circle forever, and Mark was starting to get really sore, Ms.Shore told them to find a seat at one of the many small tables in the room in two minuets.

"I'm going to find a seat," Roger said to Mark. "When you get over there, I want to see some purple." He and Maureen left to go to a table. Mark sighed, knowing that he wouldn't be able to turn purple anyway.

"PSS." Someone hissed in an over loud whisper. Mark spun. It was that boy from before, Angel.

"Hi Angel,"

"Marky, why are Maureen and Roger poking you?" Mark cringed, hoping Angel wouldn't start poking him too.

"They think I'll turn purple. But I can't no matter how hard I try." Mark started to sniffle a little.

"Oh Marky, it's okay, I know how to make them stop."

"You," sniff "You do?"

"Yeah, come over here." Angel led Mark over to a huge metal cabinet. Bravely, Angel pushed open the door, and started rummaging through a plastic box. "Here we go." Angel said, reemerging moments later with a purple marker. "Now, show me where they were poking you." Mark showed him, and slowly, carefully, Angel drew dots on his face and arms. "Now go tell them that they made you turn purple, but tell them it hurt…a lot."

"Marky, what happened to your face?" Maureen asked Mark. She, Mark Roger, April, and Mimi, were sitting down at a table. Mark scowled at her.

"You made me turn purple."

"No we didn't," Roger said, "It looks like marker to me."

"It is not," Mark said defensively. "It isn't coming off."

"Lemme see." Roger lunged at Mark, and started rubbing his face with much vigor.

"OW! Roger, stop it that hurts!" Roger sat back.

"It's not coming off." He said slowly.

"Does this mean Marky is going to be purple forever?" Maureen asked, the panic now audible in her voice.

**"**No, of course not." Mimi said disdainfully. "My daddy made me purple once, but it went away."

"Oh good." Roger looked at Mimi with a funny look in his eyes.

"Why- why did your daddy make you purple?" Mimi looked at her shoes.

"Mommy says not to talk about it." And that was the end of that…for now.


	3. ABC's and Fancy Games

_Yes, I own RENT…along with the state of Utah_

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**3.Kindergarten**

_Mimi Chapter_

Mimi missed Angel. They had known each other FOREVER. They had had play dates, and gone to the park, and climbed and screamed and laughed. And Daddy wasn't bad when Angel was around. Now she was stuck at a table with three stupid kids and Roger. Roger wasn't stupid. And Angel was _all _the way across the room with that boy. Oh well, the loud lady, as Mimi had decided to call Ms.Shore, was speaking again.

"First thing first," She said, taping a large shiny poster with funny signs on it. "This is the alphabet." The boy and the girl Angel was sitting with both raised their hands. "Yes Joanne?" The Loud Lady asked.

"I have already learned my alphabet." She pronounced each word perfectly. She sounded like an apple when you first bite into it.

"Me too." The boy…Tom…Collins (?) said as soon as Joanne had finished. He sounded fun, like those sprinkles Mommy got sometimes for the ice cream when they had ice cream. Kind of like Angel, but more…chocolaty. The Loud Lady just smiled at them in that way grown ups do when they don't really believe you.

"Then I'm sure you won't mind reciting it for the class. Joanne…?" Joanne gulped.

"A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, Z." She said quickly.

"What she said." Collins told the Loud Lady. Roger grinned. The Loud Lady was not amused.

"Tom, I need you to repeat the alphabet yourself."

"Okay, hold on my Gran taught me a song." Collins started to sway back and forth in his seat, humming a little. "A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, Z." He sang. Mimi, Angel, Roger, and, Maureen clapped. Collins bowed. The loud Lady looked very irritated. After this, she made them recite it…over and over and over. Finally she released them, saying that they could have some free time to 'socially mingle' whatever that was.

Mimi raced over to Angel, and they immediately started rummaging through a box full of colorful old clothes. Maureen squealed when she saw the rainbow of fabric, and pulled Mark over to the pair. They decided to play a game Mimi had made up. You pair off with someone else, and you dress him or her up as fancy or as crazy as you can. Mimi called it the Fancy Game. Just to switch it up, Maureen and Angel went off together with some fabric they took, and Mimi and Mark were paired together, neither was happy with this. Mark was unhappy because he wanted to find Roger, who was playing with play dough with April. Mimi was unhappy, because Mark kept mumbling random things under his breath. But never the less they started. Mimi pulled out a piece of silky blue material and tied it around Mark's shoulders, then tied a thin red strip of cloth around his waist. She topped it off with a tall black felt hat.

"Now you do me." Mark reluctantly started to go through the box. He chose an orange scarf, which he wrapped awkwardly around her waist, and a black silky thing, which he draped around her shoulders.

"We're done!" Mimi heard Maureen cry. In seconds, Angel and Maureen were next to them. The two were dressed in more or less matching outfits. Both had long strips of fabric wrapped around the their waists like skirts (Maureen had red, and Angel had a celestial pattern) and long scarves wrapped around their heads, completely covering their hair. Mark made a humph-ing sound in the back of his throat. "Does this mean we win?" Maureen asked, taking one look at their costumes.

"It was a stupid idea." Mark said, pouting and staring at his feet.

"You said the 's' word! Don't be so mean Marky,"

"You're the one who dragged me over here in the first place." Mark pointed out angrily. And with that, he left to go play with play-dough with Roger and April. Mimi looked after him before turning to Angel and Maureen.

"Do- do you guys think it's a stupid game?" Mimi asked quietly. They assured her that it was loads and loads of fun.

"Fun-er then when Laura snores!" Angel said. Laura was Mimi's baby sister, the two often liked to watch her sleep because it was funny to hear such a deep noise coming from such a little baby.

"Fun-er then when Collins sung the ABC song!" Maureen said.

"I don't know," Angel pretended to think. "That was pretty funny." Seeing Mimi's dismayed look, Angel quickly assured her that her game was 'fun-er' then Collins singing. The three decided that three was plenty of people to play the Fancy game, so that's what they did for the rest of 'social mingling' time.

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Ho hum..what do you think? Oh, Angel isn't in drag she (he right now) just likes to dress up sometimes…???? Okay that sounded weird, I hope you get it. Reveiws would make me happy!!!!


	4. Dino Trees

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed (which is really only like two people but whatever). I am so proud of you all and I'm going to get all emotional and pathetic soon. Sorry, shutting up. Sorry about the delay.

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Roger

Lunchtime, Roger looked at the huge cafeteria. The cafeteria consisted of about seven small-ish plastic tables that sat about seven kids each, and two long plastic-y tables that sat about twenty kids each. In the back, a large metal box with a padlock was open revealing cartons and cartons of milk. A metal…I have no idea how to spell counter...thing. Roger watched Mimi, Angel. Maureen, April, and Benny form part of the short line to the glass window. A hand would reach out from behind the window and hand them a tray of glop.

"Roger!" Mark waved him down from the table he was currently sharing with Collins and Joanne. Roger raced over, plopping himself down next to Mark and swinging his metal lunch box onto the table. He loved the clunking sound it made when it connected with the tabletop. "What d'you have for lunch Roger?" Roger grinned.

"Animals, and dino trees." He told them, savoring the importance of the words. According to his mother kids rarely got to eat dino trees.

"Dino trees?" Joanne asked. Roger nodded, opening his lunch box. He pulled out a box of animal crackers and a Tupperware container of broccoli. Mimi, Angel, and Maureen arrived with their lunches.

"Look you guys, Roger has dino Trees."

"Dino…Trees?"

"Yes."

"_Dino _trees?"

"Yes Maureen."

"Oh. Let's see them!" She squealed. Roger sighed; Mimi rolled her eyes, everyone else looked at Roger expectantly. The container of broccoli made a popping sound when Roger opened it. He set the broccoli head upright. The bottoms had been cut flat to make it easier to balance them, and they did indeed look like small leafy trees. Roger then ripped open the box of animal crackers. Withdrawing a polar bear from the cardboard depths, he carefully maneuvered the polar bear through the forest while narrating (I have no idea if that is how it's spelled, my spell check is useless).

"The lone polar bear went through the trees,"

"How did he go _through _the trees?"

"Shush, I want to hear." Joanne said. "Keep going."

"Ok, so the polar bear was going through the trees when he heard a noise. It got closer…and closer…and suddenly a,"

"Stop! You're freaking me out!" Mark cried.

"Don't be scared Marky, it's just a story." Angel assured him.

"But I don't want anything to happen to the polar bear." Mark said.

"Roger wouldn't kill the polar bear." Collins told him. "So what happened?"

"He was-"

"How do you know it's a he?" Maureen interrupted. "It could be a girl."

"Fine." Roger said, "She was getting scared because of the noise. Then a dinosaur came and ate one of the trees!" They all gasped. Roger, acting the part of the dinosaur, reached down, scoped up a 'tree' and stuffed it in his mouth. This amazed them all, and they made him re-tell the story enough times so that they could all get to eat a tree. Joanne, Collins, and Mark all vowed to bring in more dino trees. Mimi, Angel, and Maureen were all rather put out though; they got school lunch (the gray mess lay untouched on the Styrofoam trays) and couldn't get dino trees of their own. Roger promised to share.

"Thanks Roger!" Mimi wrapped her arms around his head in a lopsided hug.

"I can't breathe."

"Sorry," She said, and hugged him around the middle instead.

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Short I know, but cute…I hope. Actually, the dino tree thing is real. Scientists were doing a study to try and get little kids to eat vegetables and only this one daycare had kids who would eat broccoli. So they went and found out the reason was that one kid's mother had told them that broccoli was dino trees so he ate it and told all his friends so they ate it too. I just thought that was cool. Oh, and Power Peas!!


	5. School Bus

Hurray for reviews you have made me so unbelievably happy, you have no idea how happy I am!!! I just realized that this story is going to be long and rambling…AWESOME!!! I love sugar. Do you love sugar? I was walking through Inman Square with my friends. Eve was walking her dog Lucy, and Leah and Isa were being generally crazy. Then phoebe went and got her rat, Carrot, who sat on my shoulder and I realized how weird we looked; six girls with a dog, one with blue hair and a rat on her shoulder. I don't own RENT; I do own Corey and Glenn though.

! #$&() )(&$#! Thatwassocool!!!

5.Maureen Chapter

"Good Bye Roger!" Maureen cried, waving him off. Roger's father didn't seem to be particularly happy at having to pick his son up from Kindergarten. Roger waved back, swinging his lunch box in the air so that it caught the afternoon sun, before climbing into his Dad's gray Volkswagen.

"Bye JO!" Maureen ran up, and wrapped her arms around the small girl. She released Joanne, extending one hand to carefully touch Joanne's hair. "I love your hair Jo." Joanne smiled. She hated her own hair. Or she had been taught to hate her hair by her mother who was forever trying to convince her to get it corn rowed.

"Thank you," She said, touching a lock of Maureen's auburn hair. "Yours is pretty too."

"Kitten," Joanne's father said gently. "I have a meeting." Joanne nodded following him to their car.

"MO!" Collins hugged her. "This is my Gran. Gran look, this is Mo." He said, pulling her to the old woman.

"Hi," Maureen said.

"Hello, Maureen. I'm Tom's grandmother, you can call me Gran if you like."

"Gran, can Maureen come over to play sometime?"

"Of course, as long as it's alright with her parents."

"Thanks! Bye Collins!!" As Collins and his Gran walked towards the nearest bus stop she heard him explaining why she hadn't called him 'Tom'. "Marky, where are you?"

"I'm over here," She heard a small voice call. She spun, there he was. Dwarfed between his mother and his scary older sister- a third grader, shudder. Maureen ran towards him. Before she could get near him though, his mother kneeled down. The smile plastered to her face was well meaning and irritating.

"Hello," She said, holding out her hand. Maureen stopped, staring at it. What did this woman expect her to do, sniff it? Maureen wasn't a dog. Realizing that Maureen wasn't going to shake it, Mrs. Cohen withdrew her hand. "Well, um, Mark, is _this _a friend a of yours." She asked, her tone slightly less then kind. The child didn't even know what a hand shake was, how could she possibly be a good influence on her son?

"Yes Mom. This is Maureen." Mark said, nervously pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. His mother was one of the main reasons he had made few friends in pre-school. She was always convinced that no one was ever good enough for him.

"Was she the one who was poking you?" Mark closed his eyes, this was not happening.

"Yes,"

"Well I think,"

"Maureen Johnson, there you are! Get back in line." A teacher from one of the higher grades with 'bus duty', as they called it, was headed in their direction. Maureen being Maureen, she stayed put; waiting until the last possible moment before walking as slowly as she could back to the line waiting for the school bus. Only once did she turn around to wave at Mark. Mark left with his Mom and sister, glancing back at her often over his shoulder.

Back in line, Mimi and Angel seemed to have had similar problems; their good byes cut short by annoying teachers. Maureen waltzed over to them. The two were sitting with their backs against the school building, their backpacks not containing enough to give them much padding against the cold brick of the wall. Maureen joined them, sliding down the wall until she hit the ground. Mimi shaded her eyes.

"Have you been on the bus before?" She asked. Angel shook his head, but Maureen nodded proudly.

"I came on the bus once with my brother." Maureen's brother was rather famous in the school. In eighth grade, the boy was an infamous prankster with an arrogant flare and an attachment to his baby sister. This combination had lead Maureen to begin to follow in his footsteps.

"How is it? The bus." Angel asked. Maureen wrinkled her nose.

"Yellow and stinky."

This was proved true almost as soon as the bus pulled up to the school. The yellow monster towered menacingly over them. There was a mad dash to be first on the bus. The first on the bus was the first to get to the back, which _everyone _knew was the coolest place to be. Maureen stumbled backwards into Mimi as a large curly haired fourth grader pushed past her. A lanky blonde sixth grader, and a younger first grade version of the blonde followed him.

"Watch it!" Maureen cried in indignation.

"You shouldn't pay any attention to them." Said a voice behind her.

"Yeah, they're our brothers, we should know." This voice was slightly lower. The three turned around. Two boys they recognized from their class stood side by side. They looked exactly the same; same soft, curly, dirty blonde hair, same brown eyes. Only their outfits varied, one in blue, one in green.

"I know you guys!" Maureen said, secretly relieved at seeing someone she knew.  
"But I don't remember your names."

"I'm Glenn," The boy with the slightly higher voice said. "And this is my brother Corey." Corey waved. "Those were our brothers."

"Yeah, we heard you the first time." Glenn looked slightly taken aback but Corey giggled. They boarded the bus, clinging to the railing on the steep steps. The green pleather seats stretched back for what seemed like miles, and the stench was over whelming. Mimi wrinkled her nose.

"You're right, Mo, this smells awful."

"Smells like trouble." Corey mumbled darkly. Glenn swatted him.

"Stop it." Corey, Mimi, and Maureen squeezed into one seat, and Angel and Glenn got another. The bus driver, a very old woman with a few strands of wispy white hair, started the bus. It lurched forward once, rumbling to life. Everything vibrated softly. Maureen pressed her face up against the window.

"Look at all the stuff!" She said excitedly watching the small suburban town whiz past. Corey joined her at the window.

"Look! It's the ice cream shop!"

"Where? I want to see." Mimi said trying to see out the window. They spent a good ten minutes staring out the window, pointing whenever they saw anything interesting.

"Corey, this is our stop." Glenn said all to soon. They had paused in front of an apartment complex, a cluster of three or four tall concrete buildings. Corey and Glenn slipped off the seats. Angel joined Maureen and Mimi at the window. They watched them racing after the three older boys.

"Wow, five boys in one family." Mimi said. "I'm glad I only have sisters."

"Me too." Angel added.

"You don't have a sister."

"Oh yeah."

"Well I'm glad that I have my brother." Maureen declared. "Next week, he's going to teach me to catch frogs."

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Wow, I can't believe I wrote this in one day. I hope I'm not rushing. Oh well. I hope you like Corey and Glenn. Pleather is what I call the fake leather stuff.


	6. Playground

Thank you soooo much to the person(s) who reviewed, you completely made my day. I don't know why this story is so much easier to update than my last one. I just realized that kindergarten is 'children's garden' or something in German. Have you ever noticed that making the characters emotions extreme in one direction or another (extremely happy, extremely angry, extremely sad, ect.) is really fun? Well it is, for me at least. I am feeling very pleased with myself. I'm sitting in my room with my RENT baseball cap, my RENT sweater, and my RENT tank top on. Above my bed I have taped pictures of Angel, Collins, and Maureen. I have a loft bed so I'm kind of close to the ceiling. Every so often I look up at the ceiling. "Angel/Wilson!!" "Collins/Jesse!!!" Maureen/Idina!!!"

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6. Angel Chapter

Angel's bus stop was the third. At the beginning of the day his Momma had told him that he had to keep careful count and get off at the right stop. He had, often having to stop mid-conversation to try and remember how many stops they had past already. The third stop turned out to be a playground; a jungle gym complete with slides, monkey bars, and a swing set.

"Lucky," Maureen said. "My bus stop is in front of a grocery store."

"Maybe," Angel asked tentatively. "Maybe your brother will buy you some candy at the store?" Maureen tended to get her hopes way up. Which did have its advantages. For instance, if what she really wanted was a shiny rock and she found one in the park she was ecstatic, running around showing it to anyone who would look. But if she didn't find one then she would be in a mood for the rest of the day…or until she found something new to put her hopes on. Now Maureen clapped her hands.

"I didn't think of that."

"Just ask nicely," Mimi added. "My Momma won't give me anything unless I ask nice." Maureen nodded absently. She was mumbling something under her breath, suddenly her head snapped up.

"Angel, this is your stop!" Angel grabbed his backpack. It was beautiful. Black and purple canvas, a shiny black zipper, and new Velcro that made a funny ripping sound whenever you opened the pockets. He and his Momma had gone to Target yesterday to buy it. You could still smell how new it was.

Angel slid off the seat, running down the aisle as fast as his small legs could carry him. Stumbling down the steep steps and onto the pavement. The bus began to pull away, rumbling like an annoyed elderly person. Angel waved, catching sight of Mimi and Maureen in a window. The bus belched some black smoke out of its exhaust pipe and was gone.

He looked around him. A few people walked up and down the street, a father was giving his daughter a piggyback, and two sixth grade boys talking very fast strolled away from him, three third graders on the swing set were giggling. Angel sighed, there was no sign of his Momma. Angel decided that she was probably late; Momma did have to work a lot. Before Angel had started school she had taken care of him in the morning and Tia had taken care of him in the afternoon and the evening.

Angel liked Tia's apartment. Downstairs, it was just like Angel's but packed with stuff. Boxes were everywhere, on the floor, in closets, on the table, even in the bathroom. On top of the boxes were clothes, piles and piles of clothes. Nestled in the skirts and blouses were bric-a-brac: small glass animals, books with yellow pages and torn covers, jewelry, some of it broken, and letters in Spanish and English. _And _Angel was allowed to touch all of it. The only problem was that Tia never cooked. When they ate, it was always at the nearest McDonalds or similar fast food restaurants. When Momma was home she cooked, it was the reason his apartment always smelled delicious. Momma's food was amazing. She could take nothing and turn it into a small feast; it was like magic. Angel wanted to learn this sort of magic. Momma said she would teach him as soon as he turned eight.

Angel sat down on the pavement and took out the homework he had been assigned. Ask four people their favorite season, and why? Hmm, not to hard. A woman pushing a stroller walked past.

"Excuse me?" Angel asked. Momma had said not to talk to strangers but that if he ever needed help he should ask for it. The woman stopped, looking at him a little strangely. "What is your favorite season?" The woman looked confused.

"Umm, spring." Angel wrote this down on the worksheet.

"Why?"

"I like the flowers." She told him.

"Thank you," Angel said. She left. Angel asked a man in a business suit who liked summer because the there was less work, a second grader who liked summer because there wasn't any school, and a seventh grader who liked fall because that's when her birthday was. Angel smiled; his birthday was in the fall too, on Halloween. Now his homework was finished and there was still no sign of Momma. Surely she wouldn't mind if Angel played in the park while he waited?

Angel walked in through the gate, putting his precious backpack on a conveniently placed bench. What to try first? The sun was lower now and there were fewer kids. Angel didn't mind. He ran first up to the slide, sliding down it. It seemed he was going down so fast that the air in his face would make his cheeks flap like they did in cartoons. Angel's feet hit the ground; he raced back up and slid down again. After the fourth time the slide was less exciting. The monkey bars were next in line. Climbing up the small ladder he reached for the first bar but was to short to reach it. Angel wrapped one hand around the pole and stood on tiptoes so his fingers brushed it. He couldn't see any other way to reach the monkey bar. He counted in his mind, _1…2…3…_and jumped. The moment his feet left the top step of the ladder he regretted it. He squeezed his eyes shut and stuck his hands out in a desperate attempt to grab the bar.

His palm connected firmly to the metal of the monkey bars. Angel's eyes snapped open. He was so surprised at having made the jump that he let go of the bar. He let out a small squeak. It was barely a three-foot drop, but when you are just over four feet it seems a lot bigger. He landed in a crouching position with a _woof, _the air knocked out of him. Angel climbed back up the ladder and tried again. It took him three more tries before he managed to hold on to the monkey bar and another three before he made it all the way across. With a certain feeling of accomplishment, he headed over to the swings.

The swings were his favorite. It was like flying. Sometimes when he was swinging very high he would pretend he was a bird. Then Momma and Tia would laugh and Angel would chirp like a bird to see if he could make them laugh more. He loved Momma's laugh. It was smooth and soft like wind in the summer time: warm and pleasant. But Tia's laugh was loud. When she was happy, she was happy, and she didn't care who knew it. Momma…Where was Momma? Angel wasn't too worried; she would come. He pushed himself on the swing, higher and higher, enjoying the swooping sensation in his stomach. From his vantage point he could see the sky much better then if he was on the ground. The sun was setting. It was beautiful, orange and pink spread out in long brush strokes, the clouds tinted purple. The sun it's self a blazing red. It always made Angel a little sad; the day was ending. How could an ending be so pretty? Momma had told him not to worry, that if the sun didn't set it couldn't rise the next day. When was she coming?

The sun had set, and she still hadn't come. Nobody was in the park anymore. The playground had turned to a clump of shadows, sinister and threatening. Anything could be hiding near it. The swings and monkey bars seem to twist, forming grotesque shapes. Angel ran over to his backpack, clutching at it. The bench, what if something was hiding under it? Angel leapt away from it. Now he was in the open, it would be easier for something to see him. He ran over to the lone tree. What if something was in the tree and jumped down on top of him? He ran back to the monkey bars. What if something made them fall on him? Angel sat down, shivering a little. He heard a creak. He heard footsteps, and labored breathing.

"Heidegger!" That must be the monster's name. He shut his eyes tight. The breathing became louder. Angel didn't even know what a Heidegger was, but it was going to eat him. His heart started going a million miles an hour. He could feel the warm breath on the back of his neck.

"HEIDEGGER!" Angel felt something wet lick the back of his neck. He screamed. Someone else screamed too. This continued for a little while. Angel would scream, so the other person would scream, so Angel would scream.

"WOOF!"

"Heidegger, stop it, it's a person! Bad dog." That voice. Angel knew that voice. "Gran I found Heidegger."

"Oh good, here, put him back on his leash."

"Ok, here Heidegger." Angel opened his eyes.

"Collins?" He asked shakily. More footsteps, Collins' face appeared out of the darkness. All fear rushed out of him.

"Angel? What are you doing? Why are you on the ground? Where is your Mom?" Angel jumped up. He was so relieved to see Collins he hugged him.

"Collins! I am so glad to see you! You saved me from the Heidegger."

"Heidegger is my dog." Collins said, surprised. A Saint Bernard, followed by Collins' Gran, appeared out of the dark as well.

"Tom? What are you doing?" Gran called.

"I found Angel." Gran smiled, it was warm. Much like Collins' own smile.

"Well aren't you just a little detective. Can I see this angel you found?"

"Not an Angel, Angel. I was telling you about him." The smile fell off Gran face.

"Angel? Here? At night?" Angel stepped forward a little. "My goodness. Angel deary, what are you doing here?" The full situation hit Angel. His Momma had forgotten him. _His _Momma.

"This is my bus stop, and" Angel started to sniffle a little. "- And my Momma didn't come."

"She didn't…" This seemed to appall Gran more then anything. Heidegger running into the park unsupervised-fine, her grandson going into the dark park after him-fine, Tom would come back if she told him to. But a mother forgetting her own child?

"Wait," Collins asked. "You've been here this whole time?" Angel nodded.

"Aren't you hungry?" Angel nodded again. "Well come along then." She and Collins and Heidegger began walking away. Collins turned around.

"Come on," Angel ran to catch up. They started walking again. Angel pet the dog, he really wasn't that scary when he wasn't sneaking up on you in the dark.

"So your dog's name is Heidegger?"

----------------------------------------

Ha ha, Collins has a dog, named Heidegger! This is my longest chapter yet, and I must say I'm rather proud of it. I love Angel, I'm sorry I made his mom forget him, but she was at work. She couldn't help it. Ok, I figured out that I might be able to post a lot on the weekends and like not at all during the weekend, which stinks. Please review! YAY


	7. Office

Thank you all, your reviews inspire me to update! I'm trying not to be repetitive with the whole sunset thing, my excuse is that it happens at the same time as the last chapter so it makes sense that they'd both see it. I have a thing for sunsets. I love you all very dearly, Larson bless.

**INSERT LINE BECAUSE I'M NOT SURE HOW TO BECAUSE I'M ON MY DAD'S MAC**

7. Joanne Chapter

Joanne sat in a large leather swivel chair. It smelled strange, like it was past its expiration date. Did chairs even have expiration dates? She sighed leaning back. Smelly or not, it was very comfortable. Joanne was in her father's office, about a half hours drive away from home, in New York City. This is where she spent most of her afternoons. Both her parents worked very hard for some very important company dong some very important thing that her parents would never really specify. It had been this way ever since Joanne could remember. In the morning she would do what she needed to, to get ready for the day (get dressed, eat breakfast, ect) then her father would bring her to wherever she was going that day: day care, pre-school, and now kindergarten. After this was over, her father would pick her up and bring her to the office. Her mother was never awake before Joanne left so she only saw her in the evening, after she came home.

The office was large enough as offices went; enough room to comfortably fit the desk, swivel chair, and bookcase that occupied the room. A window sat behind the desk, but the chair was turned away from it. Joanne twisted the chair around to face it. Standing on the swivel chair, she pressed her face against the glass. She had never been up higher than this. With a total of thirty something floors (not counting the non-existent thirteenth floor) her building towered above the ones around it. It was a dizzying drop to the busy street below. Joanne stood up completely to get a better view. Another tall building sat across the street, slightly to the left. She could see into some of the windows, most of them were just full of people. Those kinds of people, who didn't think, didn't live: only their fingers alive, typing out memos and fliers for eternity. Joanne looked to the right of the office building. The sun was setting. She could see forever, all the way across the city. Sunlight glinted off windows, while buildings appeared black silhouettes. Central Park was a large black haze of treetops. The Hudson looked wonderful, the pollution undetectable under the layer of sunshine.

"You really shouldn't stand on swivel chairs." Joanne spun, falling back down into a sitting position.

"Aidan!" She said reproachfully, scowling at the young man before her. Aidan grinned. He was in his early twenties with a mop of black hair that often fell into his eyes. Aidan had worked for Joanne's father since he'd gotten out of college. He often told Joanne the story of how he'd almost quit, but then he'd met her and decided to stay, if only to keep her company. Aidan was a cross between a father, older brother, and a friend. Joanne struggled to keep her scowl in place. She failed. Though he didn't know it, Joanne smiled more around Aidan than anywhere else, except perhaps at school…with Maureen. Maureen, that girl was like nothing Joanne had ever encountered before. She was the exact opposite of everything else in her life: loud, eccentric, friendly, open, bold, a little rude at times. Maureen contrasted completely with Joanne's life in a way that was difficult for the small girl to ignore.

"You look like your father, sitting behind a big desk, thinking." Joanne wrinkled her nose.

"Don't say that." Aidan walked behind the desk and sat on the arm of her chair.

"Alright. Ms.Jo how was your first day of kindergarten?" Joanne looked up at him. Even sitting down, he was much taller than her. He remembered. Her father remembered that she now had to go a different place for six hours a day, he had even asked how it gone, but he had a phone call to answer before Joanne could start speaking and hadn't remembered to ask her afterwards. Joanne didn't blame him; nothing was ever her father's fault. But her mother hadn't remembered at all. It wasn't that Joanne's parents didn't love her; they just didn't really understand how to be parents. They didn't understand that sometimes she would need them and it couldn't wait. That she wouldn't just go away when there was work to be done. That it wasn't always going to be easy. Her mother wasn't really anything. She was efficient, brilliant, organized, something of a control freak, but not over Joanne, never over Joanne. She had all the skills of a computer useful, but often unfeeling. She seemed to resent Joanne for taking up so much time. Her father was better. It wasn't that he disliked his daughter; he just didn't really understand her. His knowledge of young girls was very limited; he thought they were all the same. It confused him to no end that his daughter would turn aside the Barbies® for "The Little Engine That Could". That she had taught herself to read at age four instead of watching TV. But he did his best by her, even if he was sometimes forgetful.

"It was wonderful!" She exclaimed. " There were tons of kids, and we played, and everything was just like you said it would be." Joanne went on to describe her day: How Mark had turned purple, how she and Collins had sung the ABC song, how Roger had brought in dino trees, and Maureen. Joanne stopped.

"How was your day, Aidan?" Aidan gave her a small smile. He wasn't going to tell her that the coffee machine had given him second degree burns, or that the computer had erased some important documents that he couldn't replace, or that he had almost been fired…again. He wouldn't burden her with his problems when they were so menial in the long run, especially since she would bug him about it until he promised not to do whatever it was that got him in trouble in the first place. He would never break a promise to her however trivial.

"It was fine," Aidan told her instead. "I downloaded a new computer game if you want to try it out." Joanne nodded absently, she was still thinking about school. That place made sense to her, like a saying her father had once told her: A Place For Everything, And Everything In Its Place. School was a place for learning. It had its place.

"You know I'm kind of hungry, you want to go get something?" Aidan asked. Joanne slid off the chair. Aidan marveled at how tiny she was: barely 3'10. How could such a small person have such a good perception of the world? But that was just it, Joanne was a person, a living, breathing, thinking person. "Come on, let's go tell Daisy where we're going."

**INSERT LINE HERE BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BECAUSE I'M ON MY DAD'S MAC!**

I got the name Daisy from Voice Mail 3 (I'm pretty sure anyway). I'm not that happy with this chapter and I'm not quiet sure why. I know there is a reason and I will probably remember it as soon as I post this…that kind of sucks. On the bright side, I converted one of my friends into RENThead-ism…? I actually really like that word. It's a good word. I promise the next chapter will be less serious; I just need to figure out what their home lives are like. Umm, just to remind you, the order the chapters focus on goes: Collins, Mark, Mimi, Roger, Maureen, Angel, Joanne, Benny and April don't get their own chapters because I don't like them. Well I love Taye, who doesn't? But Benny really annoys me. Review please!


	8. Attic

Thank you so much for the review. I'm not really sure what to say…uh…in case you forgot Heidegger is Collins' dog. The characters are not mine, they are the holy creator's, Larson Bless you all. And I'm sooooooooooo sorry for not updating in forever- there is no excuse for that I guess I'm just a lazy bum!! ; )

**INSERT LINE…………..LINE!...**

8. Collins Chapter

Collins didn't think too much about his house. It was where he lived; and not much else. If people came over, they came over. Their opinions didn't matter. But now, bringing Angel back, Collins felt suddenly self-conscious. He seemed to see it through a more critical outsider's point of view. The wooden one story house looked suddenly out of place: the garden boxes looked juvenile, and the bright red door he and Gran had so carefully painted seemed to clash horribly.

Heidegger gave a low woof. Angel jumped, surprised. Heidegger just wagged his tail happily and dashed up the steps, through the special dog flap. Collins remembered when a few years ago, Gran had hired someone to install the dog flap, back when he was just a puppy, though still almost as large as Collins. Heidegger was a Saint Bernard, and a large one at that. They had bought him when Collins was about four, the age where Collins started to miss having people his own age around. He had lived with Gran for as long as he could remember. Just the two of them in their country style house, which Gran promised he could have when he was older. Sometimes, Gran would tell him about is mother, her daughter. But she never spoke of his father, and Collins never asked.

Now Heidegger made a dash for the dog flap. Gran let go of the leash, and he bounded up the stairs and through the dog flap. Angel gasped, and stared at the swinging door.

"Collins," Angel turned to him, wide-eyed. "There's a hole in your door!" Collins grinned.

"It's for the dog, like a mini door." He tried to explain. Angel only seemed to hear every other word.

"A mini door? Can I go through?"

"Umm, I guess." Angel yelped and dashed up the few stairs to the front porch. Carefully, he got down on all fours and crawled through the dog flap. Collins watched as Angel was seemingly eaten up by the darkness that was beyond the door. He ran up the front steps, also down on all fours.

"Angel?' He called through the flap. He backed up hurriedly, almost colliding with Angel as his head shot back into the light of the street lamp.

"It's dark in there, will you come in with me?" Collins made to crawl in through the dog flap as well, but hesitated when it came to his shoulders. Collins was considerably larger than Angel. It wasn't that Collins was overweight; rather, Angel was unusually thin.

"You can fit." Angel told him reassuringly. Collins crawled forward, fitting easily. Though he still sucked in his stomach when he passed through. The flap closed behind him with a muffled thump. He sat by the door in the darkness, his back to the wall.

"Angel?" He called into the dark. He felt behind him for the door, for the wall, for something he could feel. The dark was like a cloud of smoke; filling his eyes, making it difficult for him to breath. But worst was that it filled his mind, try as he might, he couldn't seem to remember the day. He would conjure up a memory, only to have it gently blown away by the all-consuming blackness. He heard a scream.

"Angel!"

"Heidegger, don't do that to me! You scared me! Collins? Where are you?" Collins breathed a sigh of relief; voices were something the smoke was unable to blow away, they were substantial. He imagined that if he reached out he could touch their voices, frozen in the air.

"I'm over here." Collins called back.

"Where?"

"Here."

"Where is here?"

"Here is here- UFF." Collins made a strangled noise as the door he'd been leaning against opened, and he was pushed gently, but unexpectedly, to the side. A shard of light from the lamp outside the house split the dark like a single line of chalk on a blackboard. Angel appeared on the other side of the room clinging to Heidegger's collar, his hands not visible, buried by Heidegger's extensive amount of fur.

"Tom? Angel? Are you in here?" Gran's voice called. Collins stood, Angel leapt to his feet grinning.

"We're here!" He cried. "You're mini door is very nice."

"Thank you," Gran said. She didn't seem to mind that they'd used it instead of the normal door.

"Would you two like something to eat?" They nodded. "What would you like?'

"Can we have spaghetti?" Collins asked, looking over at Angel to see if that was all right.

"Of course, Tom, why don't you show Angel the upstairs?" Collins stood, crossing over to where Angel and Heidegger sat by the stairs, and beckoned.

They scrambled up the stairs. They were shiny polished wood but very steep. Collins remembered vaguely when he had fallen down all of them and split his lip. Or perhaps he remembered Gran telling him the story it was hard to tell. When he got to the top he glanced over his shoulder. Angel was still only half way up.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"I'm takin' off my shoes,"

"Well don't slip with your socks." Collins cringed at the idea of Angel falling down the stairs. But he needn't have worried. In seconds Angel's dark eyes were peering at him in the dimness inches away.

"What's up here?" He asked.

"My room." And he pushed on the door. Collins had the attic room. When he was old enough, Gran had offered to let him have the room on the ground floor, but Collins liked this one better. He like the way the roof was slanted and how the windows were close to the ground. In the morning, the patches of sunlight made friendly orange squares on the wooden floorboards. He would lie in the warm spots until they moved to a different spot on the floor. As much as he liked the sunshine, he didn't mind the rain. The sound was louder up here and it was comforting, like his own private set of percussions.

His bed was out of the way of he two windows that were on the one side of the attic. His room wasn't neat, but it wasn't a total mess. He didn't have tons of toys, mostly books. He'd learned to read barley a year ago but it fascinated him. The way the words made sense. Sometimes he would try reading Gran's books but usually the words were ones he didn't recognize. Then he had to ask what they meant. He didn't mind it helped him add to his ever-expanding vocabulary, but it was irritating to have to pause so often and he usually gave up after struggling through a few pages.

"This is so cool," Angel breathed, taking it all in.

"Thanks," Collins said. "What do you want to do? Spaghetti won't be ready for twenty minuets."

"I don't know. We could look at your books." He suggested.

"Ok," So for the next few minutes they looked at the pictures of Where The Wild Thing Are. But Angel soon tired of sitting still, so they opted for stalking the books into the walls of a fort. Occupied for the time being, they were soldiers in a battle, or pirates in their ship, or princes and princesses in their castle. It all depended don the book that was currently on top of the wall. Gran called up the stairs eventually, the pasta was done. The scampered down the stairs and slurped the noodles giggling.

"You have tomato sauce on your face," Angel informed Collins.

"So do you," they entertained themselves for the next few minuets by trying to lick the remaining sauce off their faces. OF course the problem with this was that a tongue is only so long, and can tire after being forced to reach farther than a tongue was meant to stretch.

"I give up!" Angel declared after ten minuets of this.

"Me too, my tongue hurts." A loud ring made them jump. Gran, who'd been watching them with mild interest, rose from her seat to get the door. On the other side of the bright red door was a woman. She was short, maybe a few inches over five feet and her long black hair hung in a braid down her back. Her breathing was uneven and her eyes and nose were red. She wore the vest of a Wal-Mart employee.

"I'm so sorry," When she spoke the words were clouded over with the accent of unfamiliar language and the indifference of panic to pronounce them right. " Have you seen a little boy? Small, with a purple backpack?" Her voice cracked. Gran smile comfortingly.

"Why don't you come in and sit down? You look exhausted," She offered, while calling over her shoulder. "Angel?" Curious, Collins and Angel had let their seats at the kitchen table to see who'd come. Angel grinned, the smile lighting up his whole face.

"Momma!" He cried. Running forward. The woman, who was clearly Angel's mother, scooped him up and started converse with him in rapid Spanish. They looked alike, the same dark hair and golden feline eyes.

It was not long before Paz, Angel's mother, insisted that they'd imposed on their hospitality too long. Angel seemed to want to protest, but couldn't seem to keep his eyes open long enough to. But he still persisted on hugging Collins good-bye.

"Thank you," He said, "for saving me from the dark in the park."

"This was fun, get lost again sometime," Collins joked.

"Or you could come to my house!" Angel seemed adamant. Collins agreed that it would be cool. But maybe when they were less tired. It was after all, almost 8:00, far to late for any reasonable human being to consider anything other than finding your way to a bed.

**MORE LINES…..HI HO HI HO IT'S OFF TO WORK WE GO! DO DO DO……...**

Well that was a nice, normal length chapter. I'm sorry again for not updating sooner; I do feel awful about it. Reviews are absolutely cherished, and there is a poll on my profile if anyone would care to check it out. YAY!


	9. Bathroom

Thank you soooo much to all my reviewers! I forgot how many more people reviewed this than my other story. I'd like to give a special shout out thing to Overthemoon and HarryPotterRENThead, who went back and reviewed all of the chapters. Thank you! OH! And I'll Cover Angel And Collins, who gave me the idea for this chapter.

AREN'T LINES OH SO INTERESTING? MAKE THEM YOURSELF!

Late September

Mark sat uncomfortably in his chair twisting his legs together and raising his hand as high into the air as it would go. Roger, who was sitting next to him was giving him funny looks. Mark waved his hand around but still Ms.Shore took no notice of him. Mark bit his lip hesitantly.

"Ms.Shore?" He finally called out. Normally he would have blushed profusely and ducked his head, hoping she wouldn't know it was he, but this was urgent. She turned; she had that annoyed 'you-just-inturupted-something-that-is-infinitly-more-important-than-you' face on.

"Yes…uh…Mark?"

"Can I go to the bathroom?"

"_May _I go to the bathroom." She corrected.

"Yes you can, but can I?" Ms.Shore flushed scarlet, whether in anger or embarrassment, Mark couldn't tell.

"You _may_ if you take a partner." Mark could practically see Roger's ear prick up. He sat up from his slouch and glanced at Mark out of the corner of one eye.

"I'll go with him!" Roger volunteered a little to enthusiastically. Ms.Shore nodded absently. Roger pushed back his chair, almost knocking it over, and pulled Mark up.

"Let's go!"

"Don't forget the hall pass," Ms. Shore reminded them. Mark snagged it off a table and ran to catch up with Roger.

No day but today…and tomorrow…and the next day…and the next….

"Thank god," Roger breathed as soon as he was sure they were out of earshot.

"Thank god what?" Mark said through his teeth, he REALLY had to go.

"Thank god you had to go, I was so bored I thought I would die." Mark paled.

"Don't die Roger." There was a silence between them; only the sound of Roger's light up sneakers on the linoleum kept them company.

"Roger, which way is the bathroom?" Mark asked. They had reached the end of the hall. There were two flights of stairs here, one gong up, one going down. Roger paused, looking unsure.

"Up," He said decidedly, instantly regaining his cool.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, I know this school like my own blankie." If Mark had doubted Roger before it all disappeared now. No one disregards the blankie. Though Mark didn't have a blankie, preferring his teddy bear Mr. Fuzzle, he'd seen Roger's blankie and it was very cool. It was red plaid. And besides, Mark didn't have the resistance to fight the urge to stop and argue, so they pounded up the stairs. At the top of the stairs Mark glanced around. A long hallway was lined in huge cold looking metal boxes- lockers-greeted him.

"I thought you said the bathroom was up here!?" Mark hissed.

"I thought it was." A loud ring, not unlike that of a phone, echoed down the hall. The noise seemed to last forever. Mark covered his ears. Almost instantly, people came pouring out of the doors that broke the lines of lockers. They were all very tall, and loud. But so different from each other, girls flipping hair over shoulders, boys pulling baseball caps lower, adjusting backpacks, laughing, talking, they all seemed to travel in packs. Moving together, almost as if for protection. All this was hard to take in, most of what Mark and Roger could see were knees poking through holes in jeans, feet covered in everything from flip-flops flip flopping to combat boots pounding the tiled floor. Mark grabbed Roger's arm but Roger shook him off.

"Roger we're going to get squished!" Mark squeaked.

"No we're not… I think. Oh god, that kid is looking at us."

"He's gonna step on us!" Mark cried. The kid in question was a boy. There was something familiar in the way the walked, like he might start running at any moment. He had a head of dark curly hair that threatened to grow up instead of down and his brown eyes spoke of mischief. He walked his loping walk, his eyes locked on the two boys. Mark imagined the different ways he could possibly torture them so that he was shaking by the time the boy knelt down next to him. He'd already covered kicking, hitting, stepping upon, pushing, and slamming when the kid spoke.

"What are you kids doing up here?" His voice was charged with the same electricity as…Maureen's. In fact, that walk was her walk, those eyes were her's too. Of course, Conner, the famed brother of Maureen- where she'd gotten her walk and her talk. Mark remembered he'd asked him a question and panicked.

"Bathroom," Was all Mark managed. The tight, uncomfortable feeling came flooding back. He could hear Roger slap his forehead.

"It's down there," Conner told them. "Down two flights of stairs to your left." The happiness at the prospect of finding a bathroom evaporated. Two whole flights of stairs?

"Thanks," Mark said weakly before being pulled in the other direction by an impatient Roger.

No day but today…and tomorrow…and the next day…and the next….

The flight of stars was not fun, but sure enough there was The Room. Everything was fine until Mark realized that he was going to have to climb to get onto the seat.

LINES! WONDERFUL LINES! LOOK LIKE THE WORD LININS! WOW! No day but today…and tomorrow…and the next day…and the next….

Well there you are! Sorry about how long these are taking, I actually had the idea for this for a little while…I mean I'll Cover Angel And Collins gave me the idea, but it's been sitting in there for a while! I actually have the outline for the next three chapters if you'd like to know. I just realized that if we spelled Roger either Rogor or Reger it would be a what's it called…. a palindrome! Anyway PLEASE REVIEW!!


	10. Birthday

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO THE REVEIWERS!! YOU GUYS ROCK!! And my brother, my brother rocks too. He's cool. I would like to apologize for the Angel/Collins, I love them way too much for my own good and so I apologize to all the Mimi/Roger, Mark/Roger, and MoJo fans. I will put some in there eventually. I wallow in my non-ownership-ness of RENT. I grovel at the feet of The Holy Larson. Can I have one? Please? How about for my birthday? NO? What do you mean no? I WANT A RENT CHARACTER!!

* * *

Early October

"See Mimi? Just like I told you! A mini door!" Angel cried excitedly. They were outside Collins house, the bright red door standing out especially vivid against the gray of…well everything else. The sky was gray, the sidewalk was gray, the trees were gray, the house was gray, everything was very dull and muted. In early October most of the leaves had already fallen off the trees, an early winter this year, and their feet crunched on the leaves that hadn't been blown away by the wind. _Crunch_, Mimi trampled a leaf, turning it instantly to dry, brown, confetti. She knelt down, scooping up a hand full, and promptly dropped it on Angel's head. Angel screeched and hurried to crush leaves of his own to retaliate, so that by the time they reached Collins' front door their hair and shoulders were sprinkled with the pale flakes. Mimi glanced at Angel and giggled. Paz sighed, but made no attempt to brush it off, knowing full well that they'd just put it back in. She rang the doorbell, which immediately set off a dog inside. The barking became more pronounced when Gran opened the door. The grown ups shook hands, exchanging the polite 'how nice to see you's and 'thank you for coming/inviting us'. Mimi pushed passed them, dragging Angel with her. It was easy enough to find Collins- he was right in the middle of things, trying to calm down Roger and Maureen who were screaming at each other.

"YOU TAKE IT BACK!!" Maureen was shrieking. Angel sat himself beside Joanne, who was watching the exchange without much enthusiasm.

"NO! PLUS YOU RUINED MY PRESENT!"

"IT WASN"T A GOOD PRESENT ANYWAY!!"

"WELL YOUR PRESENT IS STUPID!!" The room was silent for a moment, all eyes on Roger. Maureen's lower lip quivered.

"Wow, you're as bad as Marky." Mimi said, trying to ease the tension. The incident in which Mark had insulted Mimi's game had been forgiven long ago, but it seemed like either a really good or a really bad time to bring it up again. You never could tell sometimes. Maureen turned big eyes to Roger. If she widened her eyes anymore she could star in her own Disney movie.

"Roger?" Roger looked at his feet.

"Sorry," He spat out the word like it was something foul tasting- like fish- Mimi hated fish. Maureen's lip stopped shaking, and her eyes returned to normal instantly.

"That's okay Rogy-poo! Is it okay if I call you Rogy-poo?"

"No."

"To bad," Collins slapped his forehead.

"Is everyone here Tom?" Gran asked, Collins blushed, already becoming more attached to his new name and less fond of his original. It was funny to see Collins blush, Mimi mused. He looked so…cute. Angel voiced this almost immediately after Mimi had thought it.

"You're cute when you blush." Of course this only made Collins blush more.

"Now what?" Joanne asked.

"OH!" Mimi cried, remembering something suddenly. "Here!" She said, shoving a large clumsily wrapped package at Collins. Angel handed him a smaller tissue paper wrapped parcel as well.

"Thanks," Collins said, grinning and placed them with the other four gifts.

"I know what we should do!" Maureen cried in her hyper way.

"What?" Asked Joanne suspiciously.

"Hide and Seek!" Maureen said with an official air.

"What's that?" The others looked at Joanne. Not know hide and seek? Who had heard of such a ridiculous thing? Everyone knew hide and seek - or so Mimi had thought.

"You don't know hide and seek?"

"NO, should I?"

"Yes! You should! You should, you should you should!" Maureen repeated herself for emphasis. "Don't worry, it's easy, you hide and I seek you."

"That's it?"

"Well, yeah. Who's going to be it? No one? I will!" Maureen nominated herself.

"You should let Collins be It, it's his birthday." Mark put in. Maureen pouted, knowing he was right. Mimi would have felt sympathetic, except that she was always like this.

"It's all right," Collins assured her. "You can be It."

"YAY! I'm counting to 26, because that is how high I can count." And without any further warning, she began. Angel and Collins raced upstairs. Joanne grabbed Mark, pulling him towards the dinning room, leaving Mimi with Roger.

"Well don't just stand there! She's already at 11!" Mimi yelped at Roger, pulling him away from Maureen. Roger had a look of pure terror on his face.

"Mimi…"

"Shh!" Mimi said, pushing him into the closet under the stairs. Roger squealed as soon as Mimi closed the door.

"Mimi it's dark in here!" Roger whined. This was true; the only light they could see was seeping under the door.

"Yes, Roger, it is. Glad to see your eyes are working."

"But it's DARK, there could be anything in here…like spiders." Roger tried to explain. Mimi rolled her eyes even if Roger couldn't see her.

"Shh, she'll hear you." It was Mimi who screamed next. Roger had reached out and grabbed her hand. "Roger, you scared me."

"Sorry," Suddenly a beam of light shone through the darkness and a smiling Maureen appeared in the crack between the door and the wall.

"You guys are very loud." She told them. By some miracle they were not the first to be found, and they followed Maureen in her quest for Angel and Collins. But after only two more rounds the game was pronounced boring. And just in time too, Gran called that they could come have cake now if they wanted. Mimi's eyes lit up at the thought of cake. They seven of them pounded down the stairs to the table where Gran sat accompanied by a round chocolate frosted cake, and a lighter. Gran made sure they were all seated before lighting the candle. It was a large number six, propped upright in the icing. They all sang the Happy Birthday song. Though their voices clanged discordantly Mimi thought they sounded pretty good. Collins blew out the candles with only a little help from Roger. Mimi smacked him, reminding him that his birthday was coming even if he had to wait till January. The cake was amazing. Moist, chocolaty, but not to rich and the frosting was like hot fudge but not hot. Once the cake was eaten, Roger declared that it was time to open presents and shoved his present under Collins' nose.

"Here, open mine first." Roger said. His present was rectangular. Collins ripped open the paper to discover an action figure.

"Isn't this the G.I. Joe guy you've been wanting for ages?" Collins asked, trying to act like he was excited about this. Collins wasn't into action figures. Mimi couldn't blame him; they weren't soft like stuffed animals. You couldn't cuddle an action figure.

"Well, yes." Roger admitted. Collins sighed, wordlessly handing it over. Roger grinned.

"Open mine next!" Maureen insisted. Collins obliged. There in the pale blue tissue paper sat a white Beanie. Without thinking, Collins shoved it onto his head. It slid down past his eyes, caught on the bridge of his nose, but he didn't seem to care.

"MO! Thanks! This is awesome!"

"I know," Maureen gloated, before turning to Roger. "See, I told you it wasn't stupid." Roger stuck his tongue out at her.

"Here," Mark said as a distraction. Mark's gift was a scarf, orange and white strips, and Joanne's was a book. Mimi watched proudly as Collins unwrapped her present- large cardboard building blocks. Angel was a little shyer about his gift. It was smaller than the others. It was a piece of paper. It had a dried flower in the middle, a yellow tulip.

"I couldn't think of what to get you so my Momma helped me make this with the last of her tulips." Angel tried to explain.

"Thank you," Collins said, gently tracing the flower. Mimi grinned, having watched them make it knowing the time it took to dry out flowers. There was a pause. All the presents had been opened, all the cake eaten, so what did they do now?

"Whose birthday is next?"

"Well, mine is in November." Joanne offered.

"December," Said Roger.

"Mine was in August, I'm older than all of you so HA!" Maureen cried.

"Mines in February," That was Mark.

"I'm in April," Mimi told them. She had always liked her birthday, April 11th just seemed like a good day.

"Mine's in June." Angel pouted, the youngest. At least Mimi was older than somebody.

* * *

Okay, sorry, weird ending but I was just pulling teeth there at the end. . Just to clarify, Mimi Angel, and Mark all turned five earlier this year, and Maureen Collins, Joanne, and Roger are turning six.

I made Collins' beanie white because that is what color it is in the first act of the musical. I realize that it is black in the second act and in the movie.

If you look up the meaning of flowers the yellow tulip will make more sense.

Last, I would like to give a shout out to my brother, who once again has saved the day and mad this chapter come to you that much quicker. He rocks, if he had a fan fiction account I'd tell you to send him fan mail. HE IS THE BEST!! There is waaaaay to much dialogue in this. PLEASE REVIEW, though I will not hate you if you don't.

link to flower meaning site i used, take out the spaces: http: /www. aboutflowers. com/ floralb5.html


	11. Halloween

Thank you for all your amazing reviews, you guys are the best

Thank you for all your amazing reviews, you guys are the best! Once again I'd like to thank my brother, he's unbelievable cool. He let me dress him up as a girl (ok, I kind of tackled him) and for revenge he's going to dress me up like a boy! That's just how cool he is. So yeah…

!!

Roger

October 31st

The beam of a flashlight swam through the dark like a fish. Mrs. Cohen, who was holding the flashlight fussed over Marky.

"I swear, we must stop ordering from those catalogues, their pricing for a costume two sizes too small is ridiculous." She was muttering, conveniently forgetting that this was the same costume Mark had worn for the past two years. It was a dog suit. Roger backed away as far as possible from Mrs. Cohen, he would probably never get used to her fussing. In fact Roger didn't think he'd ever seen her so wound up…unless you counted the Hanukah party last year…that poor latke, it never did find it's way out of the air. Roger wondered where it had landed, in the dark on top of Mark's roof it was hard to see where it hand landed considering it had been thrown unceremoniously into the yard. A sigh of relief brought him back to reality. Mrs. Cohen had finally finished lacing the headpiece that included the ears, to which, Marky seemed grateful. That, and they'd found the others: Collins, Maureen, Joanne, Angel, Mimi, and of course Paz and Gran. There were introductions between Paz and Mrs. Cohen, which Roger blocked out in favor of assessing everyone's costumes.

Maureen blended in with the night in her black cat suit. It appeared to be made of some kind of furry material. A headband in her hair had black pointed ears attached and the tip of her nose was painted black with whiskers. Joanne stood next to her awkwardly in her gray mouse outfit; the same black nose and whiskers as Maureen were painted on as well. Collins was clearly a wizard. He had a blue-ish robe and a blue pointed hat. He also carried a staff. Angel's costume seemed to have gone a little haywire. What had probably been intended as a wizard costume had turned definitely witch-y. His pointed black hat had long black hair streaming out the back and his robe looked more dress-like than was probably intended. He still looked great…just girly. Mimi looked absolutely stunning. She had a sparkly pink dress; the skirt had a layer of shiny pink tulle on top and a glittery plastic crown. Roger himself had dark pants, a shirt patterned with chain mail, and a wooden sword a cousin had sent him for his last birthday. They all stared at each other, checking out each other's costume.

"Well, who's ready to trick'r treat?" Paz asked. She was greeted enthusiastically. There was a brief disagreement about which direction they would start, but it was resolved easily enough. They neared the first house, an old, white, Victorian. The owners of the house had stretched pieces of cotton across the doorframe to look like spider webs. Two smiling jack-o-lanterns leered at them from the front porch. They ran up the short walkway to the front door and rang the doorbell.

"Trick or Treat!" They screamed.

"Oh, you startled me." The woman who answered the door had wispy white hair and a bowl of king sized candy bars. "You may have one each. So what are you all this year?"

"Well, I'm a kitty cat, I get to chase Marky and Joanne who are a dog and a cat, though Marky should really chase me cause he's dog, but I'm scarier so I get to chase him."

"You are not scary," Mark told her. She hissed at him. "You're scaring me…"

"Angel and Collins are magicky people," She continued. "Roger is knight in shiny armor-"

"Shining armor," Roger corrected her and grabbed a Butterfingers bar.

"Yeah, and Mimi is a princess!" Maureen finished, panting, and took a Kit Kat. Roger wondered why Maureen always spoke so fast. Maybe she had a bag of sugar that she kept with her at all times. Or maybe she had a plug so that she could charge her batteries. Looking over his shoulder, Roger realized that the others had already moved on to the next house. He ran to catch up. IN the next twenty minuets, Roger obtained three lollipops, two packages of gum, mini snickers, kit kat, and DOTS - all clunking around in his bag.

"Is it just me or do all these big kids look the same?" Roger nodded. They all seemed to be wearing the same long black robe and carrying the same staff like weapon. But more importantly they al seemed to be singing the same song:

_Trick or treat _

_Trick or treat_

_Give me something good to eat_

_If you don't_

_We don't care_

_We'll pull down you're underwear!!_

Mrs. Cohen looked mortified. She looked like she might grab Collins' staff to give them a whack. The kids seemed to pick up on her vibe, and dashed away.

Their feet had begun to hurt when they came to the last house before going back to Mark's house. It was very large, gray paint peeled away from the sides and the shutters hung half off their hinges. The walk up to the door was very long and very dark, lined on either side with bare trees. Roger felt himself being pushed to the front of the group with Collins.

"You guys have weapons so you get to go first, aren't you lucky?" Maureen explained.

"No," Roger whimpered. I'm gong to get eaten by a monster and then Maureen will eat my candy! He thought. He took two steps forward. His knees felt like that disgusting Jell-O they sometimes served at school. Two more steps and Roger stopped. All the trees looked like long armed ghosts, all the bushes looked like monsters crouched and waiting to pounce on him. "I can't do this."

"Yes you can!" Mimi told him. "You are a knight in shiny armor, right?

"Shining, Mimi, shining. Yeah, but…I'm scarred." He whispered.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you! Just give me your sword."

"WHAT?" Roger cried. "No!"

"Why not?" Mimi asked indignantly.

"Well – well," He scrambled for a reason. "Princesses don't use swords."

"This princess does!" She said, and snatched the sword out his slackened grip. She marched bravely up the path; Roger hurried to keep up. They reached the front door without any more signs of monsters. She reached out and banged the hilt of the sword on the door. Nothing happened. She knocked again. The silence and anticipation were killing him. What if no one was home? What if someone was? The door was flung open from the inside. It slammed against the side of the house. There was silence. They were face to face with a monster. Its grotesque features were twisted almost beyond recognition. It was the same wrinkled texture of an elephants, but sagging. Its skin was the color of the flesh of something that had died a long time ago. Its eyes were set far back into its head, almost completely obscured by drooping flesh, but what they could see was the dull black of an animal's eyes. Its mouth hung open to reveal yellowing teeth. After taking in the horror in front of him, Roger turned, and dashed down the steps.

"MOOOONSTEEEEEEER!!" He screamed. His heart raced. He glanced over his shoulder, assuming the others were with him. He stopped running, and his mouth dropped open. The 'monster' was nothing but a rather plump old man with a mask, like in those Scooby- Do shows. Roger could have melted into the ground and been perfectly happy being a puddle of Roger goo. The others were now walking towards him, their candy bags slightly heavier. Mimi smirked at him He wished he would melt into a puddle of Roger goo. He go back to get his candy. He didn't even ask Mimi to give back his sword. She'd earned it.

!!

Heh heh, I love making Roger afraid. It makes me happy. A big round of applause for JUSTIN (brother), the man of the hour! He's been staying up late to help me write these, and will probably do something terrible to me for keeping him awake. Like leaving me unwanted 'presents'. But I love him anyway. He says, and I quote, "Hi RENTheads! Remember, DO NOT forget Angel!!" As you can see, I've infected him with my love of Angel. You know what else I love? Reviews! Though I'd probably write this anyway, maybe if you review I won't get any 'presents' from my brother.


	12. Thanksgiving

You know, after 12 chapters I'm starting to wonder why I'm still writing this. The answer would be – BECAUSE I CAN!! Golf claps for my brother. This time he says, "Thank you, you are all awesome!" He's a little hyper this late at night. And all the rest of the time. All right, about updates. A couple nights a week I sit in my brother's room with the laptop and type out part of the story. The flaw in this plan is that I only get about twenty minuets and not every single night. And, yes, I MUST be around my brother, he's inspiring. Disclaimer: If I owned RENT do you honestly think I would be sitting here screwing around with the plot?

!!

Thanksgiving

Maureen leaned against the window, tugging against her seatbelt. It was strangling her; even her booster seat did nothing to prevent this. Black asphalt passed beneath the car's tires and a green blur past outside. Her breath came slowly, deep and even. The small talk that had past between her parents had died out hours ago leaving a stale, used feeling in the air. Connor leaned against his window too, though he had his headphones on. He had an iPod. Lucky. She had asked her parents for one too, but they said she didn't know ten songs, so what was she going to do with all the space? Maureen had pouted. She knew hundreds of songs. It wasn't her fault she'd made most of them up. She thought about the word iPod. Going over the alphabet she substituted the letter. aPod, bPod, cPOd, dPod, ePod, fPod, blah blah blah. blahPod. Maureen stopped; this was going nowhere, least of all where they were actually going.

"We're here kids." They weren't actually there yet, just turning onto a small dirt road winding through the forest around them. Maureen wouldn't have spotted the road at all if not for the bright red mailbox. The trees stopped and were replaced by what looked like miles and miles of brown stalks and brown leaves and brown ground. About half a mile away a building painted the same bright red as the mailbox stood out sharply against the green and brown. A grayish smudge sat next to it. Pulling closer the gray smudge revealed itself to be a house. Many people stood outside of it, mostly adults, but a few kids Conner's age stood with them. Younger kids ran screaming in and out of the house, around the grown up's legs, and on the sprawling lawn.

The car came to a stop, pressing Maureen's seatbelt tighter against her neck for a moment. Her parents got out, but she had to wait for Conner to un-do her seatbelt. This always drove her crazy because her arms were not quiet long enough to reach the buckle to set herself free. As soon as she was released, she jumped from the car, eager to stretch her legs.

"Come here, Maureen dear." Her mother called. Maureen came around to the other side of the car where all the people were. Her mother placed a hand around her shoulders. "You remember Aunt Liz and Uncle Howard? And their kids? Rosa, Georgie…"

"Don't call me Georgie!"

"George, excuse me, and Isabel." She pointed to a red haired woman and a bearded man. A red haired girl a bit older than Conner stood between them. Gorgie was a boy about the same age as Maureen with the same flaming hair as his sister. Isabel turned out to be a baby with little hair.

"And of course, Nan and Pop," Maureen's grandparents "Uncle Gus, Aunt Fran, Uncle Adam, Aunt Sarah, Uncle Gary, and Aunt Louise." More smiling people, Maureen scowled at them.

"And your cousins: Jack, Sam, Leah, Jacob, Teddy, Eve, Rebecca, Rachel, Isaac, and Stella." The kids ranged from a girl who was not quiet young enough to be a kid (Rachel) to a baby with less hair than Isabel (Teddy).

Maureen just glared at them. It was all their fault. It was their fault her parents had thrown her unceremoniously in the car with no warning. It was their fault she'd had to sit in the car for hours on end. Well, perhaps her parents had mentioned something once or twice, but how was she supposed to pick up on subtle hints like that? It was their fault that she was in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do surrounded by strangers instead of at home with her friends. She would have been hanging out with everyone all weekend like they were planning. She would have been laughing with Mimi and Angel, and scaring Marky, and teasing Roger, and plotting things with Collins, and just being with Joanne. Joanne was like nothing the small girl had ever encountered before. Normally she felt as if she had so much energy she would burst into a million pieces if she didn't do something – anything. She would just die if she couldn't move, or say something, or make something. It was this energy that lead her into so many sticky situations. It made her rash and rude at times. But when she was with Jo, none of that seemed to spill over. She didn't feel the constant need to be alive, because when she was with Jo she was alive. It was as if instead of her body exploding her soul was exploding. And not in a bad was either, she didn't need to any of that. She didn't have to show off for anybody, not even herself. She was just Maureen, and Maureen seemed to be good enough.

"Do you want to see the stables?" It was Leah. Leah had the same dark hair as Maureen, but foggy gray eyes to her green ones. She reeked of laughter. Georgie was also with them. These two were almost exactly the same age as her. Maureen considered refusing, but than she would be alone in a strange place instead of with people in a strange place.

"Ok," She said. They raced down the slight slope to a long flat building behind the red building. Before she even saw it, Maureen could smell the stables. It smelled sour like horse poop, but fresh like hay. They entered. Leah showed her the different kinds of horses, their names, and their breeds. There were stallions, and mares, and geldings, and foals. After that Maureen stopped listening. She couldn't help it that the horses didn't interest her. She didn't mind her cousins, but she missed her friends. She missed Joanne. Leah eventually picked up on her lack of interest.

"Come on," She said, "We'll cut through the barn and see if dinner is ready."

"Yeah, I'm starving." Georgie put in.

"You're always starving." Georgie shrugged.

"I can't help it." There was a doorway that connected the stables to the barn. The barn was smaller on the inside than it appeared to be from the outside. This was because there was a hayloft taking up most of the roof, Leah explained. The walls were whitewashed, and the ground was strewn with stray bits of hay that had escaped the stalls that lined the building. A strange sound filled Maureen's ears. It was low and strained. To her it sounded a little bit like "move". She moved, walking as fast as she could, not turning around to see if Leah and Georgie were with her, but than she saw her. She had big, brown, shiny eyes framed by the thickest lashes Maureen had ever seen. She had soft brown hair and her legs were folded daintily under her. Maureen stopped to stare. She was the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen.

"Who is she?"

"That's Elsie."

"Elsie," Maureen murmured, and ran up to her stall.

"You can climb in if you like," She did, landing lightly in the hay. Slowly she extended one hand and cautiously stroked Elsie's head. Elsie blinked once. Maureen began to pet her head, her back, her nose; Elsie sniffed her sleeve. She nibbled Maureen's shirt experimentally. Maureen giggled. "Maureen, we have to go in, it's dinner time."

"I'm not hungry," She answered dreamily. It was only after much persuasion did she leave Elsie's stall. As soon as she got up Elsie mooed mournfully and they almost had to start the whole process over again.

!!

"Mom, What's that?" Maureen asked, pointing to one of the many dishes on the table. Maureen's mother sighed.

"That's mashed potatoes," She wouldn't have minded her asking except that Maureen had been asking her what everything was since the meal started.

"Well, what's that?"

"Those are green beans."

"And that?"

"Beef Stroganoff."

"What's beef stroganoff?"

"It's meat.

"MEAT?" Maureen asked appalled. "What kind of meat?"

"It's cow, sweetie." Maureen gasped, images of Elsie's soft hair and sweet moo filing her mind. "Would you like some?"

"NO!" Maureen cried.

"I will never eat any meat ever again…EVER!" She added, as if someone was about to oppose her. Conner rolled his eyes. Her mother looked confused, but didn't argue. Maureen crossed her arms daring anyone to contradict. They didn't, this pleased Maureen.

She spent the rest of her stay in Elsie's stall for the most part. Of course, eventually she was dragged home, where she 'educated' everyone on how not to eat Elsie. Roger, Collins, and Angel embraced the prospect whole heartedly but Mimi wouldn't give up bacon, Joanne didn't want to cause trouble at dinner by not wanting to eat something, and Mark's mother would be mad if he didn't eat gefelta fish. They agreed that these were valid reasons. Though Maureen had no idea what a gefelta fish was or why one would felt it.

!!

THAT WAS SO FUN TO WRITE!! The origins of Elsie the cow…hmm… I have no idea how to spell gefelta fish, I feel like such a failure as a Jew. Oh well. One more thanks to my brother he's the bestest!! REVIEWS are loved beyond words!!


	13. Before Christmas Visitors

Oh My God!! i'm so so sorry for not updating forever and ever!! and i have no good excuse, which sucks even more. i hope you can all find it in your hearts to forgive me...

* * *

Angel

December 23

The particular ornament Angel was staring at had been on the tree for the longest time. It was the one Tia had put up first, a blue glass orb hanging by a silvery wire. It looked nice from underneath like this. His head hung off the couch – silky, maroon, but so old that the silky-ness was fraying to mere threads stretching across holes on the cushions in parts. Angel didn't really care; they made great walls to any fort. Tia placed another ornament on a branch, a small glass angel playing a golden trumpet. It's feathery silver wings looked even better than the blue ornament in the light. Angel squinted to keep looking at it. The light in the living room had lost its shade long ago, so the naked light bulb was extra bright.

"Can I help?" Angel asked for what seemed like the billionth time.

"No, Angel, I'm sorry. These ornaments are very old and slippery, you might drop one." Tia looked at Angel's disappointed face. "But would you run into the kitchen and grab the cookies we made for the tree?" Angel's face lit up and he hopped off the couch, promptly falling over a box labeled 'cookbooks'. More careful not to trip over anything he started off again toward the kitchen.

The kitchen was fairly small, but big as far as these apartments went – big enough to fit a small table and a few chairs as well as everything else. The fridge was white, though you couldn't tell because of all the photos and notes held up by magnets that were stuck all over it. Most of the photos were of Tia: Tia with Angel's momma, Tia with Angel, Tia with people Angel didn't know. The notes were sensible things like 'buy more eggs' or 're-charge cell phone' or 'visit Phia for lunch'. Phia (short for Sophia) was one of Tia's sisters.

Angel caught sight of the cookies – still on their pan – high on a kitchen counter. With only slight difficulty he pulled over one of their rocky chairs. He clambered on and, trying to maintain his balance, grabbed the whole tray. The metal tray was a lot heavier than he'd expected. It tipped ominously, but he managed to keep it from spilling.

Twice as carefully as before he brought the pan into the living room.

"Here they are Tia!" He said proudly, holding them up for inspecting. Tia glanced at the pan.

"Good job," she said. She then began the process of sorting the cookies into two piles, her counting went like this: two for the tree, on aside, two for the tree, and one aside. She kept counting the cookies out until there were no cookies left. Angel looked at the piles, one was pretty small, only about a dozen, and the other was about twice as big, about two-dozen. Angel wasn't quiet sure what a dozen was but Joanne had told him it was higher than ten. Angel couldn't count past ten, though he dreamed of counting up to a dozen. Collins had offered to teach him, but Angel wanted to learn by himself.

"Why are there two piles?" He asked.

"The smaller pile is for eating, and the bigger pile is for decorating the tree." Tia explained.

"Yay! Cookies!!"

A loud BRING made Angel jumped. He nearly fell over, but luckily one of the couch cushions had fallen onto the ground. Tia rose to answer the doorbell. Angel watched as Tia opened the door to reveal…Joanne. She was peering into the apartment almost apologetically. She spotted Angel and smiled. Angel leaped up and ran to the door.

"JO!" He cried.

"Hi Angel," She said. Angel looked up. Behind Joanne stood a tall, fairly handsome, Asian man.

"Who's that?" He whispered.

"This is Aidan," Joanne said,

"But who are you?" Tia asked. It seemed only Joanne knew what was going on because Aidan looked just as confused as Tia. Joanne straightened her shoulders and held out her hand for Tia to shake.

"Hello, I am Joanne Jefferson. I am a classmate on Angel's. This is Aidan Oh, he is my…" Joanne paused. "My friend."

"Well, hi," Tia said still unsure. "Would you like to come in?"

"Yes I would," Aidan smiled nervously. Angel looked form Tia to Aidan to Joanne and grinned. He caught Joanne's eye in an unspoken question. She nodded.

"Come on Jo," Angel said dragging her into the living room. "Let's go eat a cookie."

"I like cookies," She said quietly, following him. They each got two cookies, which they ate with a glass of milk sitting cross-legged on the couch.

"You're an old man!" Angel laughed. Joanne had developed a milk mustache, which stood out on her upper lip. "You have milk all over your mouth!"

"I do?" She held up her now empty glass, inspecting her reflection and laughed. She licked it away. "Now I don't."

"Aww, I liked the milk mustache." Angel said.

"It's nothing compared to your chocolate face."

"What?" Angel held up his own glass, his face was covered in chocolate. "I am chocolafied!"

"Chocolafied?"

"You know, choconated."

"Choconated?"

"I'M COVERED IN CHOCOLATE!!"

"Oh,"

"Let's go explore the…dress up box!" Angel cried. Tia had recently purchased a box for all the clothes she either no longer wore or didn't have enough room for in her closet. "Though we should probably clear the glasses first."

"Ok," Joanne said nervously. The last time she agreed to play dress up she'd ended up so tangled up in a scarf that Ms.Shore had had to cut it off her. She and Angel grabbed their cups and went into the kitchen. There they seized another chair to put the glasses in the sink. Tia and Aidan were sitting at the table. Both had empty mugs in front of them and were so caught up in what the other was saying they didn't even see them.

Joanne and Angel ran around to Tia's room, which was just as messy as the rest of the house. There it was - lying at the foot of Tia's bed was a wooden chest. It was about four feet wide and three feet tall. Angel flung it open to reveal a pell-mell of scarves, shoes, dresses, hats, skirts, and sunglasses. Angel smiled down at it in awe, Joanne with apprehension.

"Dibs on the hat!" Angel cried, scooping up a large straw hat. There was a pink ribbon wrapped around the base and a faux rose attached to it. Angel pulled it onto his head and posed. "How do I look?"

"You look good," Joanne laughed, not because Angel looked silly but because of the expression on his face. She reached for a pair of sunglasses, which she donned. Angel giggled.

"You look so grown up!" he exclaimed. After trying on almost every single item in the box – they decided to leave the under garments alone – they discovered it was almost seven thirty.

They wandered back into the kitchen where Aidan and Tia's mugs still sat, just as empty as ever, on the table. The two were still so caught up in conversation it took a lot more energy than usual to catch their attention. When they finally did manage to get them to notice them, they were just as remorseful as Angel and Joanne that Aidan and Joanne had to go home. They did leave though, Joanne nearly falling asleep standing up. When they finally did leave, Tia collapsed on the couch.

"They were nice." Angel nodded sleepily, curling up on the couch where he usually slept while waiting for his Momma to come home so he could go back upstairs to his apartment. He saw Tia look around her…at the mess, heard her groan.

"Angel…"

* * *

Can you tell i got sort of lazy at the end? A big thanks to my brother, once again, he is freaking awesome!!if you could mention him it would make him ecstatic...

* * *


	14. Hannuka

If I thought I was going to get any better at updating on time, I would make promised to improve. But, since I plan to keep updating erratically, I won't. Now I would like to blame/thank my dear brother for the creation of this chapter. It is his fault Maureen is as hyper as she is, so please don't blame me. However, if you would like to reveiw and thank _him_ it would totally make his day. Also, this is based off the Hannuka party my family hosts every year, so I'm sorry if I do anything wrong.

And, about the name of this chapter - I spell it 'Hannuka' because that is how it sounds. Since the actual way of spelling it is 'chey nun kuf hey' or something similar, there is no correct english spelling. Besides, you don't say 'Ch'annukah - you say 'Hannuka'.

* * *

Despite the fact that it was Mark's house, it was Maureen who opened the door for Joanne. Light spilled out of the doorway and onto the steps and most of the front yard where Joanne stood.

"JO! OHMIGODOHMIGODOHMIGOD!" She screeched, her lips almost blurring with the speed of her chatter. "YOU"RE HERE!"

"Hi Maureen…" Joanne said tentatively, a little nervous of Maureen's hyper activity, she suspected that Maureen might have consumed a fair amount of sugar very recently. Her suspicions were confirmed as Maureen's eyes lit up with an idea. It was then that, without warning, she leapt down the stairs and engulfed Joanne in a rib-cracking embrace.

"Ack! Mo, my ribs!" Now that Maureen was away from the thresh hold, Joanne could see other figures silhouetted in the light.

"Hello Jo!" Mimi and Angel cried, almost in unison.

"Hi!" Collins was visible only because he was the tallest.

"Hey," Roger's head appeared briefly.

"Thanks for coming," Mark said sounding…polite. Joanne had a hunch that his mother had had a serious talk with him about manners, not that he really needed it.

"Hi everyone,"" Joanne gasped. "Maureen, please! You're hurting me. She hasn't had any sugar tonight has she?"

"Not unless she broke into the gelt stash…again." Mark said.

"I'm sorry Marky! It's…CHOCOLATE!" Maureen screeched, her arms still wrapped around Joanne like a Boa Constrictor.

"Maureen, get off her." Maureen pouted and released Joanne, but kept her arms clamped around Joanne's left arm. "Close enough."

Now that she didn't have to think about breathing, Joanne was beginning to feel the cold December air leaking through her coat. She shivered.

"I'm sorry, did you actually want to come in?" Collins asked sarcastically.

"Yes I would." She knew he was only teasing. Without warning Maureen snapped back into hyper activity and began pulling Joanne up the steps. Joanne cried out in alarm, convinced she would trip and fall to her doom. She didn't though, and the warm air of the house enveloped her like a blanket. Once inside she noted a couple things, peering into the dining room she could see a kind of candleholder, and a pile of shiny coins – one looked to have split open and was hollow.

"Now what?" Roger asked, Joanne swore he had the attention span of a fly.

"We could go up to my room," Mark suggested.

"Okay!" Mimi piped up. They followed her up the stairs, where she paused, not actually knowing where Mark's room was. Fortunately Mark reached for the doorknob of the right room so she didn't have to admit that she didn't know where she was going. Mark did not have the coolest room, not by a long shot. The walls were white with a few shelves and pictures hung up. There was one of Mark's baby pictures – Joanne could tell he'd tried to remove the photo by the scraps on the wall. In the picture he was sucking on the shoulder of a coat. There were a few shots of him toddling around the playground and one of him with ice cream all over his face.

"What kind of mean parent puts up pictures of you in your own bedroom?"

"My mom."

"Oh…right, sorry." Aside from the…interesting photos on the wall, there was a bed with a blue comforter, and a shelf full of books like 'Where The Wild Things Are' and 'Green Eggs and Ham'. There was a box of legos on the floor, and of course this set Maureen off again.

"MARK! THE BOX IS PURPLE! PURPLE!"

"Yes, Maureen, it's purple." Then, though they didn't hear the call of 'dinner', they heard the footsteps of the other guests converging, which was almost as good. Joanne sighed and followed the others back down the stairs; she had the feeling that this was going to be setting the pace for the rest of the night. Mark managed to find something to trip over on the stairs and he descended on his butt, bouncing a little on each step. Of course this meant everyone else had to try it, Maureen grabbed Joanne's hand and pulled her down before she could protest. It felt like her brain was bouncing in her head as she hit each step, the floor never looked so inviting. They picked themselves up and entered the dinning room. The only people Joanne recognized were Mark's mother and sister. She saw a man, who she could only assume was his dad, and several other adults with either blonde hair or glasses or both who must be his relatives. A few older girls stood close to Mark's sister, but that about summed it up. They crowded around the table with the candleholder on it – it looked kind of like a tree sprouting up from its metal base and branching out – four prongs on either side and one in the middle. The middle one and the three prongs on the left held candles, the kind one puts on a birthday cake. Mark's mother struck a match and put it to the middle candle, which she picked up and started lighting the other candles with. She began singing, as did most of Mark's relatives, in what must have been a different language because it didn't make any sense. It sounded a little strange, the people's voices did quiet match up right and they clanged discordantly on the high notes. The melody wasn't happy or sad exactly, it just was. The faint smell of smoke tinged the air as the song concluded. The candleholder was abandoned and the guests filed into the kitchen. Here it smelled like onions and cooking oil. There was a long table set up buffet style with silverware and plates. Joanne grabbed hers as she joined the line. Now came the food; first was a huge platter of little brown potato-like clumps, but they smelled like the onions.

"Latkes," Mark told her. "Potato pancakes." She nodded and took two. There was bread and butter, as well as applesauce, sour cream, salt, and pepper.

"For the latkes." He explained. She eyed it suspiciously before salting her latkes and putting a dab of applesauce on the corner of her plate. Just as quickly, the crowd whisked her back into the dinning room. She found a place between Roger and Mark. Glancing between them, she noted that, while Mark was eating Roger seemed to be inhaling. She abandoned her fork in favor of her hands, and dipped the corner of a latke into the applesauce and cautiously took a bite. The latke was surprisingly moist on the inside, but crunchy on the outside. It was salty and warm and the onions came out as a pleasant background flavor. The applesauce was cold and sweet and clashed beautifully with the latke itself. Joanne's eyes widened and she began wolfing it down almost as fast as Roger.

"Applesauce, applesauce, apple apple apple sauce!" Maureen sang happily. She hadn't even bothered with the latkes, eating the applesauce by itself.

"Mom…" Mark called down the table. "Is there any sugar in the applesauce?"

"A little," She answered.

"Oh no…" Mark's face paled visibly. "Maureen, I think you should stop eating that."

"NO!" Maureen cried, scooping up another spoonful. "MORE!"

"No." Joanne said firmly. She pulled Maureen's plate away from her.

"Hey!" Maureen said, her mouth full of applesauce.

"You get gelt after dinner." Mark reminded her. Maureen's eyebrows shot up and she made a mad dash for the kitchen. It crossed Joanne's mind that she might be attempting to locate gelt (rhymed with belt, maybe it was a kind of jelly belt…) but she returned with some bread and butter, which she engulfed with much gusto. It didn't take long to finish dinner and soon the kids were in another line to receive the gelt. When she was at the head of the line she was handed three golden coins. They were shiny, and were nice enough, but Joanne felt that she was missing something. She glanced sideways to see Angel, his mouth covered in chocolate. Where had he gotten it? Joanne's fingers explored her coin and she discovered golden foil gathered in the back. She peeled it back to reveal a chocolate coin, which she bit into happily. The chocolate was sweet and melted in her mouth. Joanne noticed that, though most of her friend's mouths were smeared with the candy, Maureen had managed to coat herself in it – hands, face, clothes and hair.

"Now it's time for my favorite part." Roger said, his eyes glowing. He raced into the kitchen and returned with a suspicious looking lump under his shirt. "To the roof!"

"The roof?"

"Please, Roger, not again."

"Aww, come on Mark!" Mark grumbled, but found himself leading the way back upstairs. This time, though they went straight and ended up in front of another door, that when opened, revealed another staircase.

"Exactly how many stair cases do you need?"

"LOTS! TONS! A BAZILLION!!"

"Maureen, please be quiet." The stairs were dark and cold, especially when Mark closed the door on them causing Roger to scream. Now it was pitch black and the wooden stairs creaked under them.

"EEK! It's dark!" It was Roger's unnaturally high-pitched screech that pierced the blackness.

"Wow, Roger, glad to see your eyes are working." Collins was the only one who'd mastered sarcasm. Joanne didn't mind the dark, more that she kept on thinking that something had skittered across the back of her hand as she clutched the railing. Eventually the darkness became less tangible, more like very dark mist. Above her, Joanne heard someone fiddling with something and then a door swung open, shedding blue-ish starlight on them. Cold air accompanied the light and they drew closer together. But they were on the roof, staring for what could have been miles if not for the other houses. The stars were the only things casting light, there was no moon, and they glittered distantly.

"We're on the roof, are you happy now?" Mark asked, his breath making a small white cloud in front of him. "I hope it comes back and hits you."

"It won't. It never does." Roger said confidently.

"What?" Mimi asked curiously.

"Does this mean I get to go home, come back, and hit him?" Collins asked hopefully.

"No!" Mark sighed. "Every year we throw a latke off the roof."

"LATKES!! Latkelatkelatkelatke!" Maureen began hoping around Roger. Roger glared at her.

"I can't throw the latke if you are in my way." Joanne sighed and clamped a hand over Maureen's mouth, dragging her out of Roger's way. Roger reached inside his shirt and pulled out the now slightly cold latke. Small waves of steam rolled off it in the frigid air. He walked to the edge of the roof, pulled his arm way back, and released. It spun like a Frisbee or some sort of mutant snowflake through the air and disappeared over the yard. They didn't hear the 'thunk' of it landing, nor did they see it touch down. It seemed that the latke had just kept going, flying on forever. And suddenly Joanne felt very happy, even if it was freezing and she'd eaten too much and it was very dark and she was very tired. The stars were bright. She paused to relish the moment until she realized that her hand was covered in Maureen slobber.

* * *

I would like to note that it is not Jewish tradition to cast latkes off of one's roof, it is just something I've always wanted to do but never got the chance to. When you rent the apartment on the first floor of a building it is not easy to explain to one's neighboors why you want acsess to the roof. Reviews are loved and welcomed, perhaps if I get five reviews I will post my brothers version of this chapter (Maureen is a lot more hyper, trust me).


	15. Justin Special: The Perfect Gift

**I********DID NOT WRITE THIS!** I DID NOT WRITE THIS! I DID NOT WRITE THIS! MY BROTHER DID! I WROTE IT DOWN WORD FOR WORD! **I DID NOT WRITE THIS!**

Joanne sighed; it was easy to think of a gift for family, but why was it so hard to think of a gift to buy her friends? Probably because they were interesting and she was, well, boring. No one ever said she was boring, no one ever thought she was boring; it's just that they were unique and she was plain. She sighed again and looked at Pookie. It had been only two days since the Hannuka party at which Maureen had given her the tiny bear, but she treasured it as if it were from her baby days. Then she made a decision that she would give them awesome gifts that said she wasn't just Joanne the daughter of a business man. Immediately she began to think of something for Mimi and several things popped into her mind. Mimi was more of a dancer and liked to dress up, so Joanne decided to get her some cool clothes. She got a note pad and wrote it down.

"Mimi's present: Cool outfit." Collins – He was smart but strong…tough one. Then she remembered his birthday party when Angel had said something about another book for his fort. Maybe he'd like another one…she decided to get him a book all about different countries. She wrote it down.

"Collins' present: Big book about the world." Angel, she thought of something. Would he like it? Probably…

"Angel's present: drum set, buy sticks later." And for Mark… " Mark's present: A disposable camera." Roger was always dreaming of rock stars and becoming one and staying up passed his bedtime. Hmm…

"Roger's present: One of those toy guitars" And Maureen? Joanne didn't know why but they'd always had pet names for each other. Hers was 'Pookie' and Maureen's was 'Honey bear' because she was sweet like honey. Maureen was hard, she thought and she thought, but she just couldn't get an idea. She decided to work on it later, but suddenly she got a good idea. She ran down the hall to the phone that was on the kitchen counter. It was one of those fancy phones that's cordless and speaks the messages to you out-loud. She grabbed the phone and ran into the living room. She flipped through a book of phone numbers that her mom kept. Every time they met someone new (friends, clients, neighbors) they wrote down the phone number, if they had one. She flipped through it until she found the page that had all her friend's numbers on it. She decided to call Angel first. She didn't know why but Angel always seemed to be very knowledgeable but very kind. After three rings Mimi picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Mimi? What are you doing at Angel's house?"

"Oh, I came over to do a fashion show. We put together a bunch of outfits and we're trying them on today."

"Oh…well that sounds…. exciting. May I talk to Angel?"

"Sure."

"Hello?" Came Angel's voice.

"Hi Angel, I'm trying to think of a good Christmas present for Maureen."

"Well, that's not a surprise. Maureen is always tough. Let me think…Hm…once Maureen claimed that cows were cool, especially if they had cool names."

"That doesn't help too much."

"Well do you think Marky would know?"

"Marky?"

"You know, Mark."

"Since when do you call him Marky?"

"Since today…"

"Oh…well, okay. Say 'hello' to Mimi for me."

"Okay,"

"And don't try anything too crazy."

"Can't promise that, bye!" Joanne sighed and ended the phone call. At least it was a start. She tried Marky then.

"Hello?" It was a bored but knowledgeable tone.

"Is Mark there?"

"Um, yeah, he's here. MARK! PHONE!"

Mark looked up. A phone calls for him? He didn't get that many phone calls. He hopped down the stairs and took the phone from his sister.

"Hello?" His voice sounded a little soft on the other end.

"Hi Mark, it's Joanne."

"Oh hi,"

"Mark, do you think Maureen would like cows?"

"Uh, yeah. She brought this paper over here once and said it was about jumping over the moon…she said she read it to a real cow named Elsie."

"Thanks Mark! Oh, by the way, did you see anything interesting on T.V.?"

"No…"

"Oh well, just thought I'd ask. Bye!" Joanne went and hung up the phone. She ran to her room and got a piece of printer paper. She thought and thought until something appropriate came to mind. It would involve a great deal of tie dying, a great deal of skill, and hopefully a great deal of luck. She set out toward the calendar to see when the next shopping expedition was. Apparently there was one about a week before Christmas on a Tuesday. She ran back to her room and wrote: tie dying kit, white T-shirt. She went back to the hall. This is beginning to get tiring, running around all the time, she thought. She entered her dad's study. As usual he was doing paper work.

"Dad, can you pick up something when you're at the store next?" She asked.

"Sure, what?"

"I need to go to the craft store to pick up some material for a present."

" I guess I could have your babysitter take you over the weekend… but I guess I should tell your mother."

"Thank you Dad!"

On Sunday the nineteenth it was done. She had designed and thought and drew and finally it was done. She held it up to make sure it was good. It was a white T-shirt with splots of black here and there. In the middle there was a red circle with a cowbell on the end that said 'Elsie'. In the circle was a chibi version of Maureen with her arms wrapped around a cow, Joanne had heard about chibi's from the big kids at school. Now that is a great Maureen gift, she decided, and it was just in time.

He got lazy at the end, shhh, don't tell him i told you that!


End file.
